⌚ 4:49 AM
El's mother is crying, blood spilling from her eyes; she's pointing a gun to her own head. Screaming, hyperventilating, nearly pulling her hair out. The dark circles under her eyes are still distinguishable despite the sticky, red liquid flowing down her cheeks. The woman - El refuses that's Lisa Thropp, though her dark hair, pale skin and long nose are clearly her mother's - collapses, and El tries to move her legs to help, but she's stuck there, watching helplessly. The eyes crying blood go black, nearly matching the color of her tears. El watches in horror as her mother - it really is her, undeniably, unfortunately - chokes out a final "I love you" before pulling the trigger.
BANG!
"No no no...don't...no no no no no no no...MOM!"
At first, El isn't sure whether the words came from Grace's mouth or her own. El is roused from her sleep when she hears Grace thrash above her, whimpering (so it was Grace). She leaps from bottom bunk and climbs up to the top.
"Grace!" El shouts, shaking her. "Wake up, wake up, you're just dreaming." At the same time, she tries to convince herself of the same - you're just dreaming, just dreaming, just a dream, just in your head, not real.
Grace elbows El in the stomach, eyes still closed, still muttering incoherent words.
El almost loses her balance and almost topples off top bunk, but she grabs at Grace's leg just in time - she wakes up. Gasping, Grace sobs, clinging onto El suddenly. This takes the latter aback but she holds Grace tight, whispering "it's okays" and "it's fines" and "you're awake nows" into her ear.
"God, I'm pathetic," Grace hiccups after she's calmed down a bit.
"You're not," El says, giving Grace a reassuring squeeze before letting go.
"What time is it?" Grace lets out a shaky sigh, running a hand through her hair (which somehow is still silky and perfect).
El glances at the clock on the wall across from them. "Almost five."
"Well," Grace swipes at her eyes. El tries not to think about her mother's blood tears. Who even dreams of things like that? "No use going back to sleep now." Grace moves past El and climbs down the ladder, landing with a muted thump on the hardwood floor, and heads to the bathroom.
El doesn't find herself wanting to sleep any time soon, either. (Blood tears. Nope.)
⌚ 5:23 AM
When El steps out of the bathroom soaking wet in only a towel, she stops short. Grace looks up from her sandals after slipping her feet into them. What happened to her Prada sneakers? A pink slip hangs loosely from her body, doing very little to cover up the bikini Grace is wearing.
El grips her towel a little tighter and ignores Grace's judging eyes looking her up and down. Yes, she knows the girl is flawless but she doesn't have to remind El that she (being El) really just isn't.
"You do know it's our fifteenth day here, right?" Grace asks lightly.
"Yeah," El replies. "Duh."
"Then why in the name of baby Jesus are you wearing those?" The distaste in Grace's voice is tangible enough to throw at El's face.
"These?" El holds up the sports bra and underwear (patterned with little pink bows) in her hand. Aware how old and disgusting and absolutely embarrassing these are, she immediately hides them behind her back. Her towel nearly slips off because of this - she grabs at it just in time. Laughable, she's sure she looks utterly laughable. And in front of Grace, her former nemesis turned friend, no less. "Yes. They're all I have; I haven't done laundry in so long - "
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Top Bunk
Teen FictionA BUNCH OF STUFF ELIZABETH ("please for the love of god call me El") THROPP DOESN'T EXPECT: 1. Her mom signing her up to be a counselor at her old summer camp ("I don't care if it's for extra credit, mom!"). 2. That children are this annoying ("no...